MOO 19: Does YOUR Compass Point North?
by Amanita Jackson
Summary: Month O' Oneshots 19! Late! Stupid internet. Either RonSeamus or RonDean. Ron is TRYING to write his essay, but certain classmates just are not helpful. Tsk. Slash, Language.


A/N: Fucking internet. I swear, it was working perfectly unti lI stopped to go get lunch yesterday, then WHAM. Out. Stupid thing. So I'm putting up yesterday's MOO with today's so I avoid that mishap. (knocks on wood)

Oliver: Hey! Ow! That hurt, damnit!

Ooh, in other news, I found my memory stick! Cos I know you all were just so worried and all... Found it downstairs. Yes, downstairs. The computer is upstairs. Wierd much. Moving on.

Pairing: Ron/Seamus or Ron/Dean, I'm not quite sure. (titls head and squints) Nope, still not sure.

Dedication: To every broken heart in here...(sorry, sorry, couldn't resist...) (ahem) To everyone who's hopelessly oblivious to painfully obvious crushes, and the foolish (but much loved, appreciated, and wonderful) people who love them anyway.

Disclaimer: Meh. (Insert clever I-Do-Not-Own here)

Warning: Language, slashiness, graphic references. Heh.

* * *

"Argh!" Ron shoved his Transfiguration essay across the table and let his head fall onto said table with a loud, painful 'thunk.' "You-Know-Who is no stress for today's youth at all, compared to this." 

Seamus nodded sympathetically, snickering inwardly as he had already, ahem, 'finished' his. That is, _Harry_ had finished his and was just not paying attention and somehow Harry's essay had ended up right next to Seamus'. Now, as a friend, Seamus had to proof read, didn't he? And naturally, great minds think alike, and the great thinkers of any age have always, ahem, 'shared ideas,' haven't they? Inspired each other, as it were?

In strictly unimaginative and very technical terms one might, if one were so cruelly and maliciously inclined, say that Seamus Finnegan had shamelessly copied Harry Potter's Transfiguration essay. Using certain powers of persuasion that might or might not be frowned upon.

Seamus had always thought of himself as simply a very loving, caring person and that since there was not enough love in the world he ought to do something about that.

Admittedly, the love Seamus gave to the world was mainly to fairly good-looking teenagers, but every little bit helps, eh? Making the world a better place one shag at a time, and all that.

Which brings us back to our current situation.

"No, go off to the Charms classroom, there's usually a fair few people there. Honestly mate, I'm kinda busy here," Ron complained.

"…playing Exploding Solitaire," added Seamus. He pouted. "Come on, Ron. If you're going to snub me, at least snub me for something useful. Like that Transfiguration essay that's due tomorrow and of which you still have two feet to write. Or at least a better card game. I mean, _solitaire_? For fuck's sake, Ron," Seamus scolded. He received a raised eyebrow in return.

"Are you taking the name of our teenage pastime in vain?" Ron asked, mockingly scandalised.

"Never! Speaking of which, are you sure you aren't interested…?" Seamus hazarded. One never knew, after all. Worth a try and so on.

"Sod off, you oversexed prick," grumbled Ron. "Leave me to my procrastination and get thee to the Charms classroom."

"If I must," sighed Seamus. "A word of caution for you, my lovely undersexed flaming flamer: Always remember that procrastination is like masturbation. It's all fun and games until you realise you're just fucking yourself." Seamus stood and stretched, his shirt lifting a few inches and showing off his lovely muscles to Ron and the world. Especially Ron.

"And with that nugget of wisdom, I leave you in search of easier prey in the Charms classroom. Ta, luv." Seamus blew Ron a kiss and sauntered out the portrait hole.

"Damn." _Thunk_. "Why do I always _do_ that?" Ron asked the deserted common room at large.

"Because Seamus' inner compass usually points due Sex, and he has a rather magnetic personality, and when the two combine it's just--"

"Rhetorical question, Dean."

A head stuck itself out from behind an overstuffed armchair. "No problem, that's what I'm here for."

"Among other things. What the hell are you doing on the floor?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Waiting for some gorgeous person to trip over me and decide to subsequently shag me senseless."

"You're sounding like Seamus."

"Well, he has kind of been my best friend for more than six years."

Ron pillowed his head on his arms. "What do you want, Dean?"

"Nothing in particular. Just thought you might like someone to talk to that isn't Seamus," Dean said offhandedly, noticing the look in Ron's eyes and the flush creeping up his face. "Any advice you might need, that sort of thing."

"What makes you think I need advice?"

"Ron luv, Harry can't think of anything but Malfoy and being stupid, and Neville is rather caught up with Blaise and Seamus is just oblivious. I'm not. I can tell."

Ron squirmed.

"Tell you what, if you let me copy your essay then I'll put the word in with Seamus."

"This is blackmail," Ron growled, flushing again.

"Bribery, I think you'll find," corrected Dean mildly. "If you decline, I'll let you sort it out for yourself, but Seamus could really use some stability in his love life."

"Concerned friend?"

"No, just trying to help out a mate."

"And you're not stable enough because…?"

"I don't want to be."

Ron stared, then laughed when Dean started to.

"Anyway, dating the bloke who's been your best friend since primary sch-- I mean, first year is asking for trouble. Like, you'd never date Harry, would you?" Ron burst out laughing.

"He's the maddest idiot I've ever met! Absolutely mental."

"See?"

"Actually, I was kinda with him in sixth year but…eh…"

"Yeah, desperate times call for desperate measures," Dean chuckled.

"How'd you know?" Ron asked incredulously. Dean grinned.

"Fifth year."

"What do--ohh, yeah." Both boys nodded solemnly, then simultaneously cracked up.

"So, can I borrow your essay?" Dean hinted when they were through laughing.

"No."

Dean pouted. "Aww, come on! I'll point Seamus in your direction."

"No, it's not that. I haven't finished mine yet."

"Well, you know what they say about procrastination--" Dean began. Ron flushed and interrupted him.

"I already heard it from Seamus!" Den snickered.

"No, this is the clean version. What I was going to say was there's no time like the present. What a dirty little mind you have, Ronald Weasley!" Dean chided mockingly.

"I blame Seamus."

"So do I," Dean said as he nodded wisely. "It usually works." They sat silent for a bit.

"I still have like eight inches left to write, but you can borrow the rest if you like," Ron offered casually, breaking the stillness.

"Concerned friend?" Dean repeated Ron's earlier comment, smirking.

"Nah, just helping out a mate."


End file.
